Phantom Fipple 0127 May 2009 Version
Daybreak, warmth welcomes waking world, clear sky,
green edges bustle with bright breezy sniffle
that sets lake's brake-line singing in reply.
Screen sedges rustle as if phantom fipple
had muted calls unanswered, reedy cry,
transmuting tune-true tones to whispery sigh.
Some jesting dragonflies flit down, skim shy,
quiescent waters sudden part, dance, ripple.
Ingesting fragile frame, from tail to eye,
swift freckled fish break surface, dart, prance, riffle.
In silence snow-white swans slide slowly by,
their pinioned wings belie the will to fly.
As Nature, life, proud strong devour crowd weak,
while most in silence pass, too scared to speak.
(16 May 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Phantom Fipple 0127 Current Version
Daybreak, warmth welcomes waking world, clear sky,
green edges bustle with bright breezy sniffle.
Lake's brake-line thrills, vibrating in reply.
Screen sedges rustle, as if phantom fipple
had muted airy echoes, reedy cry
transmuting tune-true tones to whispery sigh.
Some jesting dragonflies flit down, skim shy,
quiescent waters sudden part, dance, ripple.
Ingesting fragile frame, from tail to eye,
swift freckled fish break surface, dart, prance, riffle.
In silence snow-white swans slide slowly by
for pinioned wings belie will to soar high.
As Nature, life, proud strong devour crowd weak,
while most pass silent, scared, few dare to speak.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Phantom Fipple 0127 Initial Version
Daybreak. A lake. Warmth wakes the world. Blue sky.
Green edges bustle with a breezy sniffle
which sets the brake-line singing in reply.
Screen sedges rustle, as if phantom fipple
had muted both their moans and reedy cry,
transmuting tune-true tones to whispery sigh.
Some jesting dragonflies skim down, so shy,
quiescent waters sudden part, dance, ripple:
ingesting fragile golden frame and eye.
The freckled fish break surface, dart, prance, riffle.
In silence snow-white swans slide slowly by,
their pinioned wings belie the will to fly.
So, too, in life the strong devour the weak,
while most in silence pass, too scared to speak.
(12 March 1977)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Unnamed Lake
It sleeps among the thousand hills
Where no man ever trod,
And only nature's music fills
The silences of God.
Great mountains tower above its shore,
Green rushes fringe its brim,
And over its breast for evermore
The wanton breezes skim.
Dark clouds that intercept the sun
Go there in Spring to weep,
And there, when Autumn days are done.
White mists lie down to sleep.
Sunrise and sunset crown with gold
The pinks of ageless stone,
Her winds have thundered from of old -
And storms have set their throne.
No echoes of the world afar
Disturb it night or day,
The sun and shadow, moon and star
Pass and repass for aye.
'Twas in the grey of early dawn,
When first the lake we spied,
And fragments of a cloud were drawn
Half down the mountain side.
Along the shore a heron flew,
And from a speck on high,
That hovered in the deepening blue,
We heard the fish-hawk's cry.
Among the cloud-capt solitudes,
No sound the silence broke,
Save when, in whispers down the woods,
The guardian mountains spoke.
Through tangled brush and dewy brake,
Returning whence we came,
We passed in silence, and the lake
We left without a name.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Silence Is Not Enough
SILENCE IS NOT ENOUGH
Silence is not enough
The human needs words and sentences
Speech and meaning
Silence and waiting in silence
And loving silence so much
Are not enough
Even the longest silence is not enough
We need to speak to another person
We need human hearing
Living in the silence of our own lost selves is not enough
We need to be heard and be listened to
And to speak in a world where there are listeners
Who know how to reply.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Fish with no tail
as i gaze out of nature... i have seen a fish without a tail
impossible but its true, first things came up to my mind
is, ask whether its worth to give time to remember all
the scene or perhaps, just a memories of a simple
goodbye
as the fish swim, deep beneath the crystal blue water, i
couldn't remember the minutes, the hours past, nay i felt
that i haven't taken my meal, it seems all are just a blink
of a second in my eyes
it keeps on bubbling, even in a thousands seconds it
stay in the water, until i notice that the fish fail to surface
beneath the running water, for the absence of the tail
the body is nothing
all is just a mirror of a fish that, every movement of the
body, the twist of the tail has to follow, its a paradox to
believe that we see the tail of other fish, nay never we
saw that we don't have tail of our own
like the fish it swim, with no direction, only an inspiration
that we can do, yet as it goes there we go, tail that swim
in the water stream with no affection of what to do
now i see, how to swim, in water, lou! where i may go...in
the world of stream when everybody is frame......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Break the Silence....
Oh! Dear women
All over the world
Speaking the language of silence
Break it, Let the world recognize
You, the women all over the world
Break the silence
Fastened your mind
Let it pronounce the autonomy
Of your heart, of your will
Aloud, agile and ablaze
Break the silence
To let you feel
You are still alive bevy
Crack the crotchet which smash your life
and Join hands to procure rights
Break the silence
To liberate self and
Reject those…
Feathering acclaims
Spot those lurking witty wolf
To ingratiate until death
Break the silence
You had been
Promoting from
From the womb
Let us not carry it along
Till the tomb
As if a shroud
Break the silence
Abandon abeyance
Lest you will be questioned
Not only by your self
But by your dear beat
Dear, Break...
Break the silence......
Let they not inherit our
Mute, muss, musty silence
Let us not see them crown
Sterile, dumb, stolid silence
Sandhya
21.07.2009
poem by Sandhya S.N
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Ode to the butterflies
the butterflies dart through space
some in measured grace
some in zig zag frenzy
some carrying wings too small
to take the weight of their body
up and down, up and down
they flit, flit-flitting a burdensome dance
some are in pairs and in
such obvious romance outing
they sprint to each other
head and tail, tail and head
frolic and merry make
an ubiquitous love dazed flight
charging up the season
nature lavishes such wholesome indulgences
over such fragile creatures
exquisite tender wears topped
with an equally edifying elixir of life
divinely blessed, proffered
the nectar of heavens
an intoxication of transcience
an air of lightness envelops as
the butterflies do their its ballet
a maze of colours flips - stripes, eyes,
tails, island paradise in hues of orange,
yellow, white luminous green, blue...
so gleefully the butterfies carry themselves
and when they do settle for us
they politely spread out pages of rainbow
fold and unfold them with gentle persuasion
to take the weight of our verses
so bewitchingly the butterflies
dart through their ethereal sojourn
invigorating as night blossoms
touching us in so many ways
giving thoughts wings
to fly into heaven's bliss
the butterflies dart through space
some in measured grace
some in zig zag frenzy
some carrying wings too small
to take the weight of their physique
up and down, up and down
they flit, flit-flitting a burdensome dance
some are in pairs and in
such obvious romance outing
they sprint to each other
head and tail, tail and head
frolic and merry make
an ubiquitous love dazed flight
charging up the season
nature lavishes such wholesome indulgences
over such fragile creatures
exquisite tender wears topped
with an equally edifying elixir of life
divinely blessed, proffered
the nectar of heavens
an intoxication of transcience
an air of lightness envelops as
the butterflies do their its ballet
a maze of colours flips - stripes, eyes,
tails, island paradise in hues of orange,
yellow, white luminous green, blue...
so gleefully the butterfies carry themselves
and when they do settle for us
they politely spread out pages of rainbow
fold and unfold them with gentle persuasion
to take the weight of our verses
so bewitchingly the butterflies
dart through their ethereal sojourn
invigorating as night blossoms
touching us in so many ways
giving thoughts wings
to fly into heaven's bliss
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Wings Of Silk
In a flight of silken silence
Wings of velvet stroke
Pinions soft as melted butter
With touch as light as smoke
Huge bright eyes of earthen brown
Ne'er ceasing to peer around
To perceive the vole's
most minute sound
Then… as if a ghostly
Downy dart
Wings of silk
Spread wide apart
A muted squeak
Stop'd short in surprise
And from the snow
Doth feathered phantom rise
Then talons spread
Returns to lurch
Onto it's branch
Upon which to perch
And ‘neath the branch
Said vole will soon to fall
Snug again…wrap't tight within
It's very own fur-ball
poem by David Whalen
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In Silence
We talk in silence
We speak in exchanging breath
We argue in silence
We battle with our stare
We think in silence
We travel in our mind
We promise in silence
We create the secret better
We sing in silence
We smile in radiant melody
We enjoy in silence
We move with our body
We share in silence
We stay in each other arms
We love in silence
We grow the hope of warmth
We hate in silence
We shake in every fiber being
We pray in silence
We enchant the words in heart
We long in silence
We drown in loneliness
We break in silence
We flow soundless tears
We walk in silence
We tell our story in footprint
We listen in silence
We could hear numerous voices
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Listening Back
There are no comrade roses at my window,
No green things in the lane;
Upon the roof no sibilant soft patter-
The lullaby of rain;
Without is silence, and within is silence,
Till silence grows a pain.
Within is silence, and without is silence,
The snow is on the sill,
In snow the window wreath’d instead of roses,
And snow is very still....
I wonder is it singing in the grasses,
The rain, on Russian Hill?
poem by Ina D. Coolbrith
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Silence
Silence
There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep, deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox or wild hyæna calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan—
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.
poem by Thomas Hood
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Beneath blue ocean still
The water vapor rises
Over a blue ocean tone
Where surface still like silence
Covers all of the unknown.
Beneath there is mystery
Mermaids and fish swim
A portal of fantasy
Is where all stories begin.
Darting dolphins, talking sharks,
Sea-horses dance all around.
Red glow fish zip and twirl by.
U-boat awakes from ocean ground.
Under-water cities bustle
A fish dares to leap ashore
Whirl-pools confuse schools of fish.
Serpents rest on ocean floor.
The Illuminated waters.
The rainbow speckled scales.
Jaws of hungry predators.
Squirmy blue electric eels.
Above rippling surface
Nets catch all of the pretend.
Back to the blue ocean still.
Mystic vapor there ascends.
poem by Josh Alfred
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A thought after Yeats
When youth was life and life was youth
and life was love and love was life,
I thought love came and went;
its coming, overwhelming; and its going,
death of spirit; then, as if
the wild white swans had flown away
and left the waters of the heart’s lake cold.
But now I know it’s not like that:
love that, guarded, never flies from here in heart
to where it will, may grow dark, cold and miserly;
ungiven every livelong day
it turns to rags and dry old bones,
confiscated in the heart.
Better now, be with those wild white swans
which on a dark cold icy winter’s day
gather at the water’s edge to stretch
for yesterday’s warm loaf still fresh;
then turn, swim, lift strong wings and fly
one knows not where, and may not ask;
watch them then, into the distance;
hear the flap of wings grow into silent air;
pause still a little while;
then turn, one’s living breath
white in that winter air;
then back to warmth of home and love and peat fire
glowing in the hearth of heart renewed.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sounds of Silence
Nature’s greatest gifts attacked by disquieted nations,
Leaving nothing in place but mechanical reverberations.
Melodies of the woods serenading shooting stars
Surrender to hammers pounding and boisterous cars.
Silence, soothing silence, you have spoken a world to me.
A partner with whisperings always meant to set me free.
Now a threatened companion once always at my side;
When juxtaposed with greed I often ignored your guide.
Silence, I beseech you, use tones soft, but clear
So no matter where I am, I’ll know you can be near.
At times when myriad noises distract or voices demur,
Hypnotize me into your world where all thought is pure.
Silence oh silence; I need you more each and every day.
Clear my mind; destroy that grind with your gentle way.
Silence my silence; I promise to hear your every word.
Give me peace and help me cease to value the absurd.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Em 3
about you
what shall i say about you?
ah, i prefer my
silence
this is my cure about
you
yes, my silence
it shall speak about
you my silence
my very own silence
to speak about your
long silence
now we are at peace
in our silence
both shall speak about
us yes our silence
our marital silence in
the silence of our bed
the root of all our
troubles freud say is in
the silence of our beds
two beds now
four meters apart
speaking in silence
the silence of the house
and the chairs
and the staircases
and the carpets and
the ticks and the
empty glasses or those
cold coffee and
frozen butter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Die a Log Dialogue
'While wine still trickles fickle Death
must sheath sharp sickle, pause for breath
which hope for scope empowereth.'
To phantom sigh said passer by.
'The spine that shivers sets the score
for mind beyond the shadows led,
what's lust to who may prey no more? '
To passer by ghost of reply.
'Tears, fears, arrears are paid in Time
as Trust plays out Life's p[h]antomime
awaiting Paradise sublime.'
To phantom sigh said passer by.
'Death knows no fears, they're faced before,
some trembling mirage sins restore.
Tears are drowned out by sonic roar.'
To passer by said phantom sigh.
'No favours asked, no quavers given,
by backward glance no joys are driven,
but sins forgotten, sins forgiven.'
To phantom, 'Why? ' said passer by.
'Temptation taps a semaphore
of semi quavers sped instead
of scene thats seen, Mort or Amor.'
To passer by said phantom sigh.
'All things Love conquers, victory
of life sublime, eternity
is hyphen syphon, surface sea,
which all must sail' said passer by.
'Upon Time's [s]wings, that base bass whore
all face is surface phantom sped,
desire inspires, masks empty core.'
To passer by said Phantom sigh.
'Farewell! my welfare lies elsewhere,
and yet lies not, believes in fair
winds which Time's leaves for Life prepare'
To phantom sigh said passer by.
'Your's is not pitch or toss to call,
for finger beckon none forestall,
must dropp what seems their wherewithal
to answer summons.' Phantom said.
'That may seem so in this dimension
yet other dreams may add extension,
prorogue fell sentence, toxin mention.'
To phantom, 'bye! ' said passer's sigh.
'Betimes by night c[l]ause rhymes with c[l]aw,
bell tolls the tocsin dark and dread,
worms bore, fire burns. In store no awe.
Life's reasons seize on.' Phantom said.
'To others, therefore, say adieu,
before sun dries dawn's sparkling dew
as I am now so shall you, too,
lie, as a phantom, stark abed.'
(30 November 2006)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Drift Glow
Drift glow
Drift glow
As white as snow
Into the openness
Of bright sky heaven fresh
Mighty in its blue
Into going and renew
Drift glow
White as snow
I hear the birds singing
Outside - in a tree
Wonderful tones bringing
Up and down the scale free
Love songs for their nest
And hope to come and see
When with young it's blessed
And cared for compassionately
Drift glow
Drift glow
As white as snow
Into the openness
Of space and clear enmesh
Something to come here through
When tomorrow is up to do
Drift glow
White as snow
In with its many days singing
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Drift Glow (from, MySpace)
Drift glow
Drift glow
As white as snow
Into the openness
Of bright sky heaven fresh
Mighty in its blue
Into going and renew
Drift glow
White as snow
I hear the birds singing
Outside - in a tree
Wonderful tones bringing
Up and down the scale free
Love songs for their nest
And hope to come and see
When with young it's blessed
And cared for compassionately
Drift glow
Drift glow
As white as snow
Into the openness
Of space and clear enmesh
Something to come here through
When tomorrow is up to do
Drift glow
White as snow
In with its many days singing
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Upon The Silent, Lonely Hill
Many sleepless nights I spent
Upon the silent, lonely hill.
An invitation for others to join,
But I was the only one who went.
Silence is golden,
Especially in a crowd.
But having no one to share the silence with,
Cannot possibly make a man proud.
Silence among the trees,
Silence among the lakes.
And only by distraction silence breaks.
But overall,
Silence is desolate.
And bitter to the end.
poem by Preston Simmons
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Zen
i take to call him zen
i talk talk to zen like
to all the nature around me
zen can you talk back to me
there is a pause and i say
zen can you talk back to me
silence like the silence of nature
are you dead or alive?
i am such a bewildered dweller
i talk to zen like i do to
all the nature around me
nature do you have a mouth
talk back to me
silence
then this tranquil feel
this feel of zen reacting to all nature, to me
but no talk, just silence
then i say zen
well if you let me do all the talking?
zen zen zen i know you will one day
be more cruel, do the leaving,
not a sigh, not a word
so why dont you talk to me now?
i talk to nature hoping it will talk back to me
but like zen, it is all quiet, silence
i even pull his leg, i say zen you have
sprouted a mole, a wrinkle, a line here and there
and i say you are smart and i suddenly
feel a contentment manoevres him a little
but then i ask again, and again
zen is it my own ego boiling over?
zen, zen please tell me
till then you may stay the way you are
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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